


Touch Me

by TheCursedTypewriter



Category: overwatch
Genre: Hanzhardt, Its a good type of touch, M/M, Reinzo, short ficcc, the title is misleading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8526610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCursedTypewriter/pseuds/TheCursedTypewriter
Summary: Reinhardt always wondered how Hanzo kept his chest so smooth.





	

“My eyes are up here.” Hanzo snaps to the bulking man before him, who was currently ogling his chest like a first place trophy.  
Said bulking man looks up sheepishly, shaking his head. 

The two had just gotten out of the shower rooms after a day of intense simulation training in preparation for a cross country mission coming up; Hanzo went on about what improvements he saw in the team’s speed and charisma just from practice, but didn’t hide the fact that specific members had specific places they needed to improve on. As he spoke, he dressed - quite shamelessly, if Reinhardt had to be honest. Though the two were enamoured with one another, Hanzo didn’t seem shy when it came to stripping or donning his attire before Reinhardt. He slipped into his ghi effortlessly - a white cotton uniform that he’d left open for the sake of drying his chest- as he delved then into his opinions on Reinhardt’s performance. And for a while, Reinhardt was paying close attention. 

However, when Hanzo came over and stood between his legs, - Reinhardt had taken to sitting in his towel until Hanzo had finished dressing. He had nothing to hide, but every man needed their privacy - both hands rested on his shoulders, he was presented two very admirable traits. Hanzo’s pecs were soft and smooth; a stark contrast to his own tight, furred pair. They seemed supple, almost. His nipples were always a velvety pink, and the tattoo on his left pec stood out proudly against healthy skin. The blues and purples and golds were made all the more alluring on such a perfect canvas. He’d gotten lost in them; their color, their design, their gentleness - so much so that he’d almost forgotten to respond to the archer’s brutish tone.

Hands on the other’s hips, Reinhardt grins, brows upturned.  
“My apologies, liebe. Continue, please.”  
Hanzo’s own brows narrow.  
“You seem very engrossed with my chest. Perhaps I ought to leave the two of you to your own affairs.”  
“Oh you know how much I’d love that, my dear~.”  
Reinhardt pats Hanzo’s behind, snorting at the thwack of a hand his head received.  
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I’m merely, ah.. Observing them.” He looks genuine. Hanzo scoffs.  
“With what purpose?”  
“Well…” Reinhardt takes a moment to think. “It’s very interesting to see how smooth they look. As though they’ve never held a hair in their life. So soft; They are without flaw. I am curious as to why you keep them so.”  
Hanzo’s hard gaze softens just a bit, and he looks to the other’s chest. It’s like an animal’s back, honestly. Heavily lined with salt and pepper hair, coming across in tufts that fan over each pec. It trails down in a furry stripe to his navel, before disappearing under the towel. The archer seems embarrassed by that thought, before returning his attention to the conversation.  
“I despise the feeling of body hair. It is unclean. Barbaric, even. Any hygienic man will tell you the same.”  
Reinhardt pouts.  
Hanzo rolls his eyes.  
“It is not meant to imply that I despise yours, Wilhelm. It is my own preference to have it off of my person.” 

As if to prove his statement, he slides a hand down his chest; over his collarbone and down to his pec, before digging his nails in just the slightest to brush through the thick hair there. It’s not wiry or coarse; it’s quite the opposite. It’s soft and pleasant, light against his calloused skin. Hanzo breathes a sigh, resting his forehead against Reinhardt’s.  
“It’s gruesome on others, but on you it is like a pelt. Beastly, but nothing that repulses me.”  
The knight gleams at that, thumbing the other’s hips through his ghi.  
Hanzo continues his gentle journey of the man’s chest, including both hands as he carded his nails through the man’s pelt, absently complementing its texture and appearance. He didn’t like the feeling of body hair; his own tended to be thick and tough, itchy under his arms or over his pubic area. He kept it shaved and clean for his own sake. But he couldn’t deny that when the older man lied on top of him, he felt comforted by such soft hair on his waist and chest.  
He moves into the other slowly as he strokes, until Reinhardt’s chest was making full contact with his ribs. 

“You’re too kind to me, liebling~.” Reinhardt murmurs in that deep, gravelly tone, clearly softened by Hanzo’s loving touch. The archer smirked, moving his palms up to cup the other’s jaw, greeted by the thicker hair there. It’s soft, especially after a shower, but holds its own sturdiness, unlike the hair on his chest. He thumbs the tufts, kissing his lover’s cheek.  
“You’re too lax, Reinhardt.” Hanzo chuckles, taking a step back. The room’s fan was beginning to chill his skin, and he’d be much more comfortable flirting if the two weren’t shivering messes.  
Reinhardt hesitates to release his hips, but does so anyways, reaching behind him for the outfit he’d laid out prior to their training. Nothing too formal, like the uniform he usually donned; If anything, he looked too casual. He’d left his shoes by the door, a clear indicator that he’d be heading out soon for a stroll around Gibraltar. He loved interacting with the team, inside and outside of business. 

He pulls the top over his head as Hanzo spots his Kimono. As he’s slipping an arm into the sleeve, Reinhardt is just stepping into his boxers.  
Hanzo looks over his shoulder, watching as the other began stepping into his jeans. He was surprised that a man of his size could find clothes anywhere- Seven feet tall, as wide as a pillar, and heavily muscled. It must’ve been Hell.  
He marvels as Reinhardt slides his belt through each loop, fastening it over the button.  
Hanzo wants to ask where Reinhardt finds his clothes, or who custom makes them.  
He decides against being so openly curious.  
Turning his attention back to his own clothes, he doesn’t notice Reinhardt’s own eyes following him back.

The elder male admires the way Hanzo dresses - Practiced, almost, as though making one minor mistake would cost him. He moves in fluid movement as he dresses, stepping into his Hakama and tying the first knot tight at the back, before moving to neatly tie them at the front. The end product, as Reinhardt observes when Hanzo turns, is a little square knot. It’s perfect. Studied and mastered.  
He looks professional and comfortable all at once. Reinhardt is impressed.  
Hanzo flashes a small smile.

“You must show me how to tie in such a way, Hanzo!” Reinhardt compliments with a clap on the younger man’s back, making Hanzo stumble a moment.  
“It takes practice,” Hanzo replies a little breathlessly, raising a brow. “Are your fingers capable of such precision?”  
Hanzo isn’t surprised when that hand on his back pinches at his behind.  
“I’m sure you know the answer to this, schatz.”

Reinhardt isn’t surprised by the hand that comes up to swat hastily at his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Super short and sweet!  
> Hopefully one day I can get back into something as long as All You Owe Me Is Your Company. I'd love to be able to honor this ship with the lengthy, plotted writing it deserves. Thank y'all for reading!  
> I appreciate the heck out of your guys' reads.  
> Feel free to leave a kudos if you liked the fic! 
> 
> ♥


End file.
